Formerly known as
by trivia-game
Summary: Years of peace have been achieved, but Duo is still holding onto the past. Now, he’s writing letters to the pilot formerly known as 01. Angsty, if I did my job right, dark, yaoi,1x2, a couple light mentions of lime (heavier in later chapters, probably).
1. Letter 1

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Formerly known as

By trivia_game

****

Summary: Years of peace have been achieved, but Duo is still holding onto the past. Now, he's writing letters to the pilot formerly known as 01. Angsty, if I did my job right, dark, yaoi,1x2, a couple light mentions of lime (heavier in later chapters, probably).

****

Disclaimer: Not mine, and you better hope it never is, or else the little kiddies (think about the 10-year-old boys who are actually **supposed** to watch the show!) will be traumatized.

****

Note-ness: This fic was partially inspired by the heart-wrenching lesbian book "Annie on my mind." Forgot who it's by. Good book, I started crying ;_; Anyway, I plan to continue this! Not a one-shot for once! More letters from Duo, and maybe…well, we'll see.

To the pilot formerly known as 01,

Don't crumple this. I know you would, Heero. I can see you now in my mind's eye. You're scanning the letter quickly, absorbing every word like a fucking mechanical sponge or something equally ridiculous. But I'm asking you, as a partner, a friend, a fuck-toy and an equal (though not necessarily in that order), please, don't crumple this.

It's Duo. But of course you already know this—every letter starts the same way, and they've all been sent, one after the other, to the aliases you try to keep hidden. It's always the same though, and you know it. You hide, I find. Gotcha. You're it. But you don't play right. You're supposed to come after _me_ now, Heero, get it?

I'm laughing at myself now. You can see it, can't you? I know you could. Anyway, I'm chuckling to myself, wondering why the fuck I'm writing this by hand instead of e-mailing you. Post officials check all the mail now. They probably shouldn't let this through to you. After all, you're the infamous ex-Gundam pilot, Heero Yui. Oops, there goes your secret. Not that anyone couldn't see it in your eyes. No one untouched by war and blood is as cold as you are, Heero.

You know, I really shouldn't be writing this letter to you. Not that it's not going to get intercepted and scanned by somebody who wants us both dead. It's been like that forever. The thing is, I shouldn't be writing this because I know we'll both just wind up hurt. But here I am, chuckling and scribbling down words like a fucking maniac. Now why would we both be hurt? You're going to get hurt because you'll end up reading this out of that same curiosity that led you to me that night. I'll end up crying because writing this will just remind me of how fucking empty I am, and I'll just presume you crumpled this up, since I haven't gotten a reply in the past two years I've written you. That will hurt. It hurts to know you're not human, to know that you don't care. You probably don't smile anymore.

Come to think of it, in all the times I've known you, I've only seen you smile once, and that was when you didn't think anyone saw you. It wasn't a smirk, and it took me the longest time to realize that. Once, you smiled when you were dragged out of your Gundam, bloody. Not some kind of maniacal grin (something like mine, huh?), but an honest-to-whatever-god smile, when you saw the other pilots and I gathered down in the hangar below you. I guess you don't know I cherish that, do you?

Back in the wars, I held onto that smile. Late at night, when I was crying—oh, there's a secret, the God of Death cries like a little kid at night—it took one look at you across from me, rhythmic breathing motions the only indication you—Heero Yui, Perfect Soldier—were human, and I would remember that smile. Then there would be dried salty trails and a little smile on my face.

But after a while, that same smile made me hurt more, mainly because I knew I could never give it to you again. Hell, I remember one time when you fucked me, Heero, I had this stupid feeling somewhere between where your cock met something deep within me and the shoulders you were holding onto (do they call that place a heart?) and I opened my eyes for once to see your expression. You weren't smiling then, and I never saw you smile afterwards.

I'm an idiot. I'm a fucking moron. What brought on this epiphany? The bittersweet knowledge that I'm going to send this to you, no matter who it'll hurt, and no matter the likelihood of it getting us both killed by families of those we slaughtered who could easily trace us.

But you know, I think I'm going to ask a question. I usually ask questions in these stupid letters, don't I? Anyway. Do you smile now? Is there someone to make you smile? Wish it was me.

God, I'm such an idiot.

From the pilot formerly known as 02.

**__**

Soooo…what did you think? Please leave a review, I love hearing someone is actually reading! Should I go on?


	2. Letter 2, humour me people, Heero's next

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Formerly known as

By trivia_game

****

Summary: Years of peace have been achieved, but Duo is still holding onto the past. Now, he's writing letters to the pilot formerly known as 01. Angsty, if I did my job right, dark, yaoi, 1x2, a couple light mentions of lime (heavier in later chapters, probably).

****

Disclaimer: Not mine, and you better hope it never is, or else the little kiddies (think about the 10-year-old boys who are actually **supposed** to watch the show!) will be traumatized.

****

Note-ness: This fic was partially inspired by the heart-wrenching lesbian book "Annie on my mind." Forgot who it's by. Good book, I started crying ;_; Anyway, I'm still going with this one. More letters from Duo, and maybe…well, we'll see.

To the pilot formerly known as 01,

Heero, don't throw this one away.

Wow. Surprise, surprise. You didn't reply. It's interesting to write with you, Heero. Well, write _at_ you. See, when you don't reply, I can fit words in pretty arrangements and pretend you're saying them to me. I can make up my own reality for you, Heero. I can pretend, now, that you're not happily settled down with Relena, like you probably are, and pretend that you think about me every night. It's bittersweet, really. It's so easy, though, to ignore the bitter part of it, when I'm lost in sensation and warmth, pretending that those hands running across my body aren't your own. It's easy, Heero, to pretend they're yours.

Sorry for the little squiggle there in that last word…I'm laughing—it's hard to write. What's funny about this whole situation? I tried to picture you blushing as you read that, to little avail. You get flushed, when you're in your Gundam or when you're about to come. I've always found that interesting. I've always found _you_ interesting. 

I've also always found you cowardly. The way you hide yourself. The way you put up a cold front that drags everyone in, and leaves them staring at the cold brick wall that _is_ Heero Yui. The way you lose yourself in some things as an escape—don't think I can't see it. I see it because I know it. Oh, I'm disgusted with myself too, don't think otherwise. I'm just as bad as you are. We're a lot alike, you and I. Terrible killing machines, preying on someone else's emotions, getting high off of an adrenaline that leaves us empty…we could have been something…ne?

So why did you leave, Heero? Why haven't I heard from you in two fucking years? More importantly, why am I still writing to you? I have an answer to every question except the last. You left because there was nothing here to make you stay. You haven't written or called or visited because there was no reason to. I'm still writing because I'm hoping I can erase those last two answers, I suppose.

God, this is going nowhere. It's three-thirty in the morning, and I can't think straight. You always had that effect on me. It didn't matter how fucking important a mission was, Heero, because the instant I thought of you, I would get distracted. I kept thinking of you trying to end it all. You didn't plan to survive, neither did I. I think, in theory, that at the end of the war, instead of having life burst and grow within me, a part of me died, since it had expected it all along. That's why I'm sitting here before the sun is visible and the kids are out trying to steal some breakfast, writing to a machine and hoping he'll love me.

I love you, Heero. Eight times I've said your name, so far, hoping that you'd say mine once. I love you. I never told you that, did I? No. It's better not to admit you're in love, I figured. People get hurt in love. But denial really doesn't get you anywhere, now does it? It's like some stupid little mask that everyone can see through.

Wait.

Heero, _you_ wear a mask. What does it hide? Does it hide a smile, like the one I saw before? Or maybe that's wishful thinking. Maybe you don't smile, maybe it's not a mask, and maybe you want us all hurt. Maybe you want what J wants, whatever that entails. Maybe I'm wasting my time.

So I'll send this like I always do, pretending you care. As always…do you smile anymore?

From the pilot formerly known as 02.

PS: I wanted to write something stupid up there. I wanted to write "Love, Duo." But I'm not Duo to you, am I?

**__**

Sooooo…I want to thank everyone who reviewed my first chapter! I posted this at night and came back from school today to find **6 reviews!** Okay, maybe that's not much for other people, but it was awesome for me to find! And don't worry to those that commented on it, I don't like writing Duo-torture without a happy ending either! ^_^ A reply might be in the mail right now (hint-hint). As always, please review, I'd love to hear what you think!


	3. Letter 3 A reply Finally

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Formerly known as

By trivia_game

****

Summary: Years of peace have been achieved, but Duo is still holding onto the past. Now, he's writing letters to the pilot formerly known as 01. Angsty, if I did my job right, dark, yaoi, 1x2, a couple light mentions of lime (heavier in later chapters, probably).

****

Disclaimer: Not mine, and you better hope it never is, or else the little kiddies (think about the 10-year-old boys who are actually **supposed** to watch the show!) will be traumatized.

****

Note-ness: This fic was partially inspired by the heart-wrenching lesbian book "Annie on my mind." Forgot who it's by. Good book, I started crying ;_; Anyway, I plan to continue this! Not a one-shot for once! More letters from Duo, and maybe…well, we'll see.

To the sender, whoever he may be,

Duo, who is the pilot formerly known as 02? Why is he writing to me, and why don't you sign it in the name I knew you by? Duo, who are you now?

More importantly, _where_ are you now? I have no right to ask this. I have no right to be writing you—you're hurting. It doesn't take much to see it. Have you gotten so bitter so quickly? Maybe I'm wrong—maybe this isn't Duo. He couldn't hurt so much. God—if there is one—I hope not, anyway. Duo, where are you?

From the pilot formerly known as 01.

**__**

Sooooo…that was short. That's why I'm uploading two chaps today.


	4. Letter 4

****

Formerly known as

By trivia_game

****

Summary: Years of peace have been achieved, but Duo is still holding onto the past. Now, he's writing letters to the pilot formerly known as 01. Angsty, if I did my job right, dark, yaoi, 1x2, a couple light mentions of lime.

****

Disclaimer: Not mine, and you better hope it never is, or else the little kiddies (think about the 10-year-old boys who are actually **supposed** to watch the show!) will be traumatized.

****

Note-ness: This fic was partially inspired by the heart-wrenching lesbian book "Annie on my mind." Forgot who it's by. Good book, I started crying ;_; Anyway, I plan to continue this! It's impossible to write from Heero's point of view though .

Duo,

We both planned to die. I wanted to. I don't know if you did. And I know that if I felt anything now, I would still want to die. But I don't feel anything—or at least I didn't, until you wrote me. A week has gone by now, and you didn't answer—but I wouldn't have either. I'm sorry. I never thought I would write those words, or even think them. Three years really have gone by, haven't they?

Do I smile anymore? I'm not sure. There's no one here to tell me if I do or not. Maybe I did die. Maybe I'm a ghost now. It certainly feels like it. Duo—are you a ghost?

The pilot formerly known as 01.

**__**

Sooooo…maybe I should have put those two letters together, because I can't see Heero writing twice like that without Duo's reply. Oh well. We're going to get a little deeper in his head after Duo-chan replies.


	5. Letter 5

Formerly known as 

By trivia_game

****

Summary: Years of peace have been achieved, but Duo is still holding onto the past. Now, he's writing letters to the pilot formerly known as 01. Angsty, if I did my job right, dark, yaoi, 1x2, a couple light mentions of lime (heavier in later chapters, probably).

****

Disclaimer: Not mine, and you better hope it never is, or else the little kiddies (think about the 10-year-old boys who are actually **supposed** to watch the show!) will be traumatized.

****

Note-ness: This fic was partially inspired by the heart-wrenching lesbian book "Annie on my mind." Forgot who it's by. Good book, I started crying ;_; 

You,

I have no name for you. I've called you Heero, 01, and just forgotten your name altogether when words didn't matter. Why did you write to me? It's gotten so routine for me to write every other night to you—and it's already been two weeks. But I couldn't reply this time for so long, knowing you were reading these letters. I cried. I'm crying right now—you can probably see the streaks of ink across the page, but I don't care. I'm sending this to you. It's the fourth letter tonight, early in the morning. Do you know how much it hurts to cry? Do you have any idea? Have you _ever cried?_ How about crying after you've gone for years, _years_ of war and pain and death, swearing to yourself you'd never cry? Do you know what that feels like?

Who am I kidding? You may call yourself "Heero" now, but you know sure as _fuck_ that you're still the Perfect Soldier. Knowing that you have the nerve to write me back after three years makes me ill. I don't want the Perfect Soldier writing to me.

And yet I'm still hoping for you to answer this letter. I confuse myself sometimes.

The knowledge that I'm _addicted_ to those very words I've wished lately that I hadn't read—it hurts more than hearing from you ever did. I want to hear them from you. I want to hear you say them from your own lips, and at the same time I want you to shut up and get out of my life. There's a part of me shrieking "leave me alone to rot" and someone else inside me saying in this tiny voice, "don't let me go—don't leave again." They're both so potent, so rich and dangerous and agonizing to listen to. God, Heero, I love you and I hate you, but most of all I need you. Whether or not I could ever see you the same way again, whether or not you'd ever give a fuck about me…I need you. I need to see you.

I need to know I'm not the only one like me—a ghost.

From the pilot formerly known as 02

…Or Duo.

**__**

Sooooo…meh, that took a while to write, despite the shortness of it all. I can't figure out Heero though. He frustrates me. 

As always, please review, I want to hear what you think! This won't be a very professional thing to ask, but can you see Heero writing as much as Duo tends to? He's probably got a lot to say, but how much do you think he would reveal?


	6. Letter 6

Formerly known as 

By trivia_game

****

Summary: Years of peace have been achieved, but Duo is still holding onto the past. Now, he's writing letters to the pilot formerly known as 01. Angsty, if I did my job right, dark, yaoi, 1x2, a couple light mentions of lime (heavier in later chapters, probably).

****

Disclaimer: Not mine, and you better hope it never is, or else the little kiddies (think about the 10-year-old boys who are actually **supposed** to watch the show!) will be traumatized.

****

Note-ness: This fic was partially inspired by the heart-wrenching lesbian book "Annie on my mind." Forgot who it's by. Good book, I started crying ;_; 

Duo,

Why do you love me? I understand the hate. But why the love? I've done nothing to deserve this. There's been more pain than pleasure in our relationship. Somewhere in the middle of the darkest of nights, when you were crying, what have I done to make you feel better than fuck you?

Now I'm starting to sound like you. But I know why. You've been on my mind, Duo. I can't help it. Duo, I think I love you. I know I do.

It's so soon. I know I'll hate myself in the morning for writing this. There's so much clouding my mind right now, but, Duo, will you see me?

I love you. I know it's true. Duo…I need you too. 

These past years have been so hard. I know they've been hard for you too. I wouldn't deny it, I've been with Relena. But I'm not what she needs, or even _wants _anymore. She's found someone who she loves, and I haven't. Well, I hadn't. _I need you_. _I love you_. I didn't even _know_ what love meant until I met you, Duo.

Heero.

**__**

Sooooo…it was weird writing that. I'm going to inform you people of totally pointless information that encouraged me to get off my lazy ass and write this: trivia-game told her girlfriend she was in love with her…happy results. Now, trivia-game is happy. Thus chapter! Review and make her **very** happy! ::holds up sniffly Duo:: make Duo happy. Review.


	7. Letter 7, 8 and they cried, PLOT DEVELOP...

Formerly known as 

By trivia_game

**Summary:** Years of peace have been achieved, but Duo is still holding onto the past. Now, he's writing letters to the pilot formerly known as 01. Angsty, if I did my job right, dark, yaoi, 1x2, a couple light mentions of lime (heavier in later chapters, probably).

**Disclaimer: **Not mine, and you better hope it never is, or else the little kiddies (think about the 10-year-old boys who are actually **supposed** to watch the show!) will be traumatized.

**Note-ness: **This fic was partially inspired by the heart-wrenching lesbian book "Annie on my mind." Forgot who it's by. Good book, I started crying ;_; 

Heero, 

Why did the lady downstairs tell me a Japanese boy with blue eyes dropped by to see me?

Duo.

Duo, 

I needed to see you. Duo, do you know how hard this is? It's becoming redundant, I know but I need _you_.

I can't stop thinking about all the things I've wanted to do with you, that we never got the chance to do. I won't stay away, you know.  Duo you're my light. It's dark without you. 

Relena called today. I wasn't there, she left a message. She told me about all the things that had gone wrong without me.  Everything that had gone wrong with me.  She told me how she never wanted to hear from me. She told me to run off with you, because I obviously don't care about her. She's right you know.

So after the message, I packed up. I've moved. My new address is attached. I'll still drop by to pick up the mail for a while here.  Duo, I love you.  I'm willing to do what it takes to get you.

Heero.

**_Sooooo…_**jeez, I'm _sooo_ sorry it took so long to get these up.  I'm going to be gone for the next couple of days, so no updates there either.  Thus the three-letter-update-ness.  Thanks for reading all.  Heehee, I liked Duo's letter.  Please review!  My ego is shriveled!


	8. Outside of the print

****

Formerly known as

By trivia-game

Angsty, if I did my job right, dark, yaoi, 1x2, a bit of lime implied, and (gasp!) 1xR (I'm sorry!) 

****

Disclaimer: Not mine, and you better hope it never is, or else the little kiddies (think about the 10-year-old boys who are actually **supposed** to watch the show!) will be traumatized.

****

Note-ness: Read the book "Annie on my mind"! 

::eye twitches:: damn it, I really want to write a freaking **lemon**, as one of my reviews suggested (screamed?), but FFN isn't too thrilled with the possibility. What do you think about the idea? It would be a depressing lemon. Probably hosted on MMO.

And I didn't mean to be writing this part third person in a non-letter format…but I felt like it after a reviewer got it in my head. Meh.

Duo looked at the letter below him. The envelope it was to be sent in had a ring off coffee stained across the address written in Duo's slightly sloppy cursive. He knew every letter and number of Heero's new address. Fifty years from now, if he survived, Duo knew he could ramble it off without a pause to think.

The letter was long. Really long. It went on page after page, wrinkled in parts, and smeared with brown-red blood on in random places. God, was he ever getting sappy in these. There was too much emotion there, and he already wanted to stop writing. Fuck Heero and the fact that he was talking.

Sure, he was in love with every word spilling onto the page from Heero's pen, but it was hurting. A lot.

There was that address. It was glaring at him. Duo knew this chase was ridiculous. How couldn't he? But there was an inevitable fear screaming at him, forbidding him from taking the action he so wanted to. This was becoming an obsession. Some kind of a twisted obsession. He glanced across the tiny apartment room, past the mounds of clothes and scattered papers, past the used scissors blotched with blood, past the unmade bed out the window, where the black sky hung over the bitter world. Somewhere out there, Heero was probably sound asleep. Somewhere out there, Heero _was_.

****

.:.

The sound of mucus-laden breath was drawn out rhythmically beside Heero's form in the large bed. Her eyes were closed next to him. Her inhalation was heavy with sleep. Even after those past two hours together, the instant Heero started to think of him, he doubted he could have even remembered her name.

They were in her house. The silhouettes and forms around him were unfamiliar. Things started taking on twisted, gnarled shapes. Heero couldn't sleep. His limbs were weighed down with post-orgasmic exhaustion, but his eyes were wide, seeking figures he could identify in the sweeping darkness, trying to look past the guilt and self-loathing. But there was nothing—everything he'd known before and had taken for reality…was now warped. A joking smile turned to blood and anger, and a small lonely apartment was transformed into a wide mansion with a broad bed occupied by two strangers and empty passion.

Where the hell was the light switch? Squinting in the dark, Heero scanned the ample bedroom for the switch, but in the nighttime shades of black, the world smeared. Two years ago, he could have picked it out with his eyes closed. Now, his skills were as smudged as the darkness around him. He hated himself.

Silently, he slipped out of the bed, naked in the bitter gloom. He dropped to his knees, feeling the floor for his clothing, filthy as it may be after stumbling out from the bar, or wherever he'd been. The sharp edge of the leg that balanced that pretty bed on wheels clawed at his ankle as he crawled, feeling the floor.

Slowly, he gathered his clothing…slid it on…grabbed his wallet…drifted out.

Outside, in the stretched corridor, the light was blinding. Though it couldn't have been too bright, the effect was painful. As he squinted beneath the lighting, searching for the winding staircase, servants stared, asking him vaguely if he needed any help. They politely backed away at his refusal, hissing amongst each other about what to tell the mistress, what should they do, how to tell the lady, and who was he?

"Good evening Mr. Yui," a cool voice murmured as the door to the outside world was opened swiftly before him. Icy, Dorothy held it open for Heero as he slid out like a whisper. Her pose was forceful, but calm and composed, like a tiger crouched and watchful.

"I'm leaving," Heero acknowledged and heard the door slam behind him.

They loved her in there, they were eager to protect her—they all were.

God, he hated himself.

**I didn't want to put the mention of self-mutilation in here, because it's a really painful subject, and that might be stretching the angst thing a bit, but I wrote a third-person view of when Duo wrote the first letter, and there was blood involved, and I figured it should be mentioned. If anyone is going through a period where self-inflicted pain is part of their routine, I've been there, and am ready and willing to talk about it—no one should have to go through that, especially alone.

Sprained my ankle. Plenty of free time now. Gonna be making up for the time I've been away in regards to update. -_-;; I miss the outside world…


End file.
